


Never Have I Felt So Alive

by hellborn



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bodyswap, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, F/M, Gay dnd stoners, M/M, Smoking the good good, Soulmate AU, Suicidal characters, Weed, an abundance of the word fuck, brendon and spencer are fucking zooted, dnd, eyy, idk if im ever gonna finish this tbh, in the way basement lol, josh is a simp, like so many times, lol, pete and mikey used to go out, pretty sick right, stoners, this shit has been in my drafts for literal years, tyler's an alchemist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellborn/pseuds/hellborn
Summary: “Gerard?” One a couple seats away from him asks, worry apparent in his voice.Frank finds his own, “Who’s Gerard?” Then jumps and touches his throat, coming to the sudden realization that his throat didn’t hurt, nor did his nose or head. His hands scramble across his features and feel something very wrong. Gripping hair that is much too long and much too greasy, Frank stands up, “What the fucking hell?” He cries out in a voice that is definitely not his.One of them leans close to another and whispers. “Call Mikey.”
Relationships: Alicia Simmons/Mikey Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Spencer Smith/Brendon Urie
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	Never Have I Felt So Alive

**Author's Note:**

> theres a very high chance that ill never finish this because its been in my drafts for literal years but i really wanted to put it out finally because its pretty long and i did spend a lot of time on it. anyway .. here u go hope u like  
> also i havent fully read through this for awhile so if im missing something like a warning, tag, or relationship or character or smth pls let me know lol

“What do you mean you can’t make it tonight? You live here!” Gerard punctuates his exclamation by throwing his arms up into the air. 

His brother groans and shuffles a hand through his meticulously straightened hair. “You know I would stay if I could, but Alicia will seriously fucking kill me if I turn down another date to play D&D in a basement with my brother and a bunch of stoners!”

Gerard pouts, “But, Mikey, it’s our basement and the stoners are our friends!”

Sighing, Mikey fixes his brother with piercing eyes. “Look, Gee, I can’t tonight, alright? I know you can survive one night without me. You’re a big boy, yeah?”

“If you aren’t here, I’ll have to think of some reason for your character to be otherwise occupied. . . Maybe a sidequest of some sort?” Gerard trails off, mumbling inaudibly to himself. 

As his older brother works through possible scenarios, Mikey shuffles over to the wardrobe and peers at his reflection in the only usable part of Gerard’s mirror (a thin strip along the top that was just barely visible behind the mounds of filthy clothing). He pats his hair anxiously and adjusts his glasses before turning back to face Gerard. 

“If you need me, call me, okay?” When he doesn’t get a response, Mikey moves back over to the mumbling figure and pokes his face a few times. 

Gerard flaps his hand at Mikey and nods distractedly. “Go have fun, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Be good.” 

“Yeah, yeah. . .”

-

“Yeah that’s it ‘ya fucking fag,” The guy groans thickly, holding onto the hair against Frank's scalp and thrusting his dick mercilessly and repetitively down his throat. “Such a fucking whore, yeah, God. . .” Frank chokes and clutches to the guy’s legs as his vision swims and bobs and darkens around the edges. He flares his nostrils, aching for air to fill his lungs, gasping around the cock in his mouth. 

The guy yanks Frank’s hair tightly as he tries to pull back for breath. He chokes and slobbers, saliva coating the bottom half of his face and dripping wet and sticky down his neck. As the thrusts get faster and penetrate deeper down his throat, Frank tries to prepare himself. 

“Oh, God, fuck! Shit!” The guy keeps Frank’s face mashed in place around his dick as it pulses and spasms, shooting down his throat. His thighs shake violently beneath Frank’s blunt nails.

Just as Frank feels the substance coat his throat, he’s pushed back roughly by strong hands against his shoulders. His head hits the tarmac and red hot pain flares as it makes contact. Frank ignores this, rolling onto his side and gasping violently for breath. His hands clutch his chest and gut as his body succumbs to a horrific bout of dick-induced nausea. Coughing and heaving, he vomits. His throat and lungs scream. 

“God, you’re pathetic!” The guy sneers.

Frank slowly looks up. The guy stands above him, his face an odd combination of a leer and something else. If Frank didn’t know any better, he’d say the guy looked somewhat concerned. Like hell. He shakes his sweaty mess of hair out of his eyes to look at the guy’s flushed face.

Frank opens his mouth and is honestly shocked to find his voice, absolutely destroyed and barely audible, but still there. “For a guy that calls people fags, you seemed to enjoy fucking my throat an awful lot.” 

A look of rage annihilates any shred of consternation he might have had and Frank barely gets a moment’s notice before, _crack!_ The guy’s tennis shoe stamps down upon Frank’s face and he groans, curling in on himself, his weak stomach churning. 

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again, faggot!” He storms away, or at least Frank supposes he does when the surroundings grow quiet. He chuckles softly, despite the pain coursing through his body. The fucker had gone and said it again. 

-

Pete flicks his lighter and swears as it takes a few attempts to get the weak flame to lick up and ignite the end of the joint. He takes a long drag and kicks his feet up on Brendon’s lap before turning back to Gerard. “So Mikey’s getting it tonight, huh?” 

Gerard flips the page of his notebook and scribbles another line of backstory preceding the session about to start, seemingly oblivious to every word that comes out of Pete’s mouth. 

“Gee,” Pete prompts and Gerard swats a hand at him, bending down closer to the paper, his dark unwashed hair forming a curtain around his face. 

Pete sighs and turns back to Brendon, surrendering the blunt as the latter makes a pouting face and bounces his legs, causing Pete’s feet to fall from their perch. He frowns.

The basement door slams shut as Josh comes trudging down the stairs, holding a joint of his own between pursed lips, “Sorry I’m late, Tyler was on my ass.” He slumps into the chair between Gerard and Spencer. 

“I’ll bet he was,” Pete grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Josh throws one of Gerard’s socks at him and the former screams, ducking for shelter beneath the table. 

“We haven't even started yet.” Brendon says around Pete’s joint. Popping up from the floor, Pete eyes it through narrowed lids and makes a sudden swipe for it back. 

“You’ve already had a hit, give it to me, B.” Spencer gripes, setting his chin on Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon puts the joint between Spencer’s lips and Pete makes an unhappy face. 

“Here you dumb motherfucker.” Josh says, passing his joint to Pete as he settles deeper into his seat.

“I love you!” Pete announces, wiggling his fingers and blowing a kiss across the round table, inhaling the cannabis deeply. 

“That’s a little gay.” Brendon giggles. 

“Suck my dick.” Josh says and kicks Pete beneath the table, completely ignoring Brendon and Spencer’s laughter. 

“Even gayer!”

Just as Pete’s about to make a smart comeback on Urie’s ass, Gerard shouts, making the other four jump. “Everybody shut up! There will be no dick sucking of any kind! We’re starting now!” He turns and looks at all of them in the eyes resolutely, one by one. 

Josh shifts uncomfortably, looking away from Gerard’s piercing gaze. He whispers under his breath to Spencer, “God, I swear he’s higher than the lot of us combined, every time.” 

“He hasn’t even smoked anything yet.” Spencer mutters back as Gerard looks at Brendon. 

“Nothing we’ve seen.” Josh says and Spencer nods minutely. 

-

As Frank trudges home, he makes a mental list of what he’s thankful for in an attempt to distract himself from the aching and throbbing pains coursing through his body. 

He’s thankful that he’s able to walk. He’s thankful that the blurry vision from the lack of oxygen had faded. He’s thankful that it’s Friday and he won't have to go back to school until Monday. He’s thankful that he lives close to the school so he doesn’t have to walk so far. He’s thankful his mother will be at work so she won’t have to see him like this. He’s thankful he knows what to do in these situations, it’s happened enough that he should by now. (He’s not thankful for that). 

Digging his keys from the pocket of his shredded jeans, Frank unlocks the door and slides inside, making his way directly to the bathroom. 

He looks at himself in the mirror and grimaces. Nose is definitely broken. Great. Awesome. Spectacular. He pinches it and winces, tilting his head back just as he’d done outside school once he’d managed to pick himself up off the blacktop.

As he pulls his hoodie and t-shirt off, Frank feels the sticky sheen of his saliva along his face and throat. For some reason that sparks another flash of pain through his head, nose and throat. He wants to cry. He doesn’t let himself.

Sinking into the tub, Frank leans back and closes his eyes tightly until they hurt as well. He catalogs his pain and hates his life. Hates the fucking numbskull asswagon shitfuckers that terrorize, abuse and rape him. He fucking hates everything and everyone. Was there anyone that gave a shit about him at all?

Suddenly, his head lurches violently forward, having no control over his actions, Frank hisses as his head throws back and his skin buzzes. His heart beats frantically and his mind races as his body jerks again and his vision goes bright white. 

“Gerard?” 

“Dude, hey? Are you okay?”

“What the hell just happened?”

“Do you think I should call Mikey?”

Frank opens his eyes blearily and squints into his dark surroundings. Eyesight getting used to the drastic change in lighting, Frank looks around. 

He seems to be in some dark room sitting at a round table occupied by four other guys that seem around his age, maybe a little older, all staring right at him.

“Gerard?” One a couple seats away from him asks, worry apparent in his voice.

Frank finds his own, “Who’s Gerard?” Then jumps and touches his throat, coming to the sudden realization that his throat didn’t hurt, nor did his nose or head. His hands scramble across his features and feel something very wrong. Gripping hair that is much too long and much too greasy, Frank stands up, “What the fucking hell?” He cries out in a voice that is definitely not his.

One of them leans close to another and whispers. “Call Mikey.”

Frank feels like his heart is going to beat out of his fucking chest, “Where the fuck am I? Who are you people?” His eyes jump around the room, frantically searching for an exit. 

One of the guys approaches him cautiously, holding a hand out in front of himself, “Gerard,” he says carefully, “You know me, I’m Brendon, we meet up every week, dude. You’re our DM and you’re in your basement.” 

“This is not my fucking basement, and I have no clue who the fuck you are who the fuck ‘Gerard’,” Frank makes air quotes, “is or what the fuck a DM is!”

Brendon gives one of the other guys a look but Frank can’t see his face so he can’t tell what his reaction is. 

“Can someone please just tell me what the fuck is going on? My name is Frank, I’m 16 and I was just at my house!”

Brendon makes to open his mouth again but another guy, the one with red hair, beats him to it, “No, dude. Your name is Gerard, you’re 20 and you’re in your basement. You were just telling us that you were gonna fucking kill Pete if he didn’t stop breaking character then you lost your shit.” 

Frank feels like he’s fucking dying, “What the fuck! I think I know my own name and age! I damn well should! I’ve never meet anyone named Gerard in my entire life—“

“ _Gerard? What’s going on?_ ” One of the other guys is holding a phone out to Frank on speaker. The name across the screen reads Mikey. Frank vaguely remembers one of the guys saying something about calling Mikey. 

“I don’t know who the fuck Gerard is! Stop calling me that!” Frank screams, gripping the greasy roots of hair that does not belong to him. 

The guy on the other line’s voice gains an edge. “ _What the fuck is wrong with you? You were fine when I left!_ ”

Frank is desperate, he lets go of the hair and grips the wrist of the guy holding the phone, “Okay, listen to me, Mikey if that’s your name, I have no idea where I am or what’s going on. I am not Gerard, nor have I ever heard of anyone called Gerard! I am not in my body, I guess I’m in this guy’s body but I’m not fucking him, okay?”

The guy on the other line of the phone sighs audibly, the phone crackling, “ _I’ll be home in ten_.”

The phone beeps and Frank lets go of the guy’s wrist. 

The four guys are silent and they stare at Frank. He stares back. 

“So,” the guy that had the phone starts, awkwardly, “Frank was it?”

Frank narrows his eyes and nods.

He touches his chest, “I’m Pete,” he points to the guy with the red hair, “that’s Josh, that’s Spencer,” he points to the other guy, still sitting in his seat around the table, “and you already know that’s Brendon.” He motions to Brendon who waves a little, smiling nervously. 

“So you believe me?” Frank asks. “That I’m not Gerard?” He touches his— _Gerard’s_ chest. 

Pete and Brendon make eye contact and turn back to Frank. 

“Would you believe it if suddenly this dude you’ve known for years just up and starts saying he’s not him?” Josh breaks in. 

Frank frowns, “Fair point.” 

-

Gerard shields his eyes against the onslaught of bright light and swears harshly as his arm pushes against his suddenly throbbing nose. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters and finds his voice to be absolutely demolished as well as his throat to be sore as hell. It felt as if he’d gotten throat fucked by a horse, and he was pretty fucking sure that hadn’t happened and wasn’t ever going to happen so what the fuck. 

Looking down is another shock, he’s in a goddamned bathtub apparently and _what the fuck_ that is _not_ his dick. 

Running his hands along his face, and forgetting about the fucking nose (seriously what the fuck), Gerard winds his hands into his hair and discovers the left half to be shaved. 

Wondering if he somehow took acid, Gerard spots a shower head dangling down the wall and grabs ahold of it, turning the water spouting part around and nearly fucking jumps out of the skin that is apparently _not_ _fucking his._

The smooth back of the shower head acts as a mirror so Gerard can clearly see the face that does not belong to him. When he blinks, the figure in the shower head blinks his hazel eyes. When Gerard scrunches a hand through the long part of the hair, the figure mimics him. He pushes the hair behind his ear and wipes beads of water and a sheet of moisture from the shower head, realization of why his fucking nose hurts so bad striking. 

He’s broken it. Whoever this guy is has broken his nose. And apparently deep throated some dick and smashed his head against a wall, _what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck_.

_Jesus Christ_ , Gerard thinks, letting the shower head swing free and rubbing the back of his aching head. 

What the motherfucking goddamned hell was going on? He screws his eyes shut and looks at himself in the shower head again, convinced this was all some freaky fucking acid dream and this little punk kid was still fucking staring back at him, _what the fuck._

(Amazing art by @de2troya on Instagram, who graciously agreed to let me write a fic based on this!

<https://www.instagram.com/p/BpxqhaThGg_/> )

-

  
  


Mikey wants to fucking die. Particularly more so tonight than usual. Alicia is actually going to flay him alive the next time he sees her, God. Fucking Gerard.

He storms through the basement door and stomps down the stairs to see Gerard sitting in the far corner staring up at him with wide eyes, the other guys sitting around the D&D table, with the exception of Brendon who is sat closer to Gerard. 

“Thank fucking God.” Pete hisses under his breath, getting up and moving to Mikey’s side. 

“What the hell is going on? What happened to him?” Mikey meets Gerard’s eyes from across the room and feels vaguely uncomfortable as he meets the usually familiar eyes of his brother.

Pete scratches the hair on the back of his neck and shrugs, “I have no idea! One minute he was just fine, threatening to kill me,” Mikey nods, this sounds like typical Gerard behavior. “Then the next he was screaming about how he didn’t know where he was and shit. He thinks his name is Frank?” 

Mikey groans, “I heard, yes. Did he smoke anything? Drink anything? Take anything at all?” 

“Not while we’ve been here. I mean, _we_ were smoking, but we always do! You know that!” 

Mikey jams his fingers under his glasses and scrubs his eyes. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” Mikey moves away from Pete and crosses the room to sit beside Gerard. He shies away, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. Mikey frowns. “Gerard—”

“I’m not Gerard!”

Mikey’s skin flushes with irritation and anger. “Okay, look motherfucker, I’ve known you my entire goddamn life! I think I know who my own fucking brother is!” 

“I’m telling you, man! I’m not him, alright! This,” Gerard pats his face, pulling at the skin over his cheeks. “Might be what your brother looks like but it sure as hell ain’t what I look like!” 

Mikey takes a deep breath, trying desperately not to blow up. “Why don’t you take a look at yourself?” He holds out his phone, opened to the camera app. 

Gerard takes the phone and squints at it, pushing his hair back and touching his face some more. He shakes his head, “Yeah. This isn’t me.” 

“I’m not playing this fucking game anymore, Gerard!” Mikey screams, patience lost. “You told me you were fucking clean! You promised me! I believed you, I really fucking did! And this is what I get in return? Just tell me, _okay_?” He pleads. “What did you take that is making you think you’re someone else?” 

Gerard flinches as though slapped and then he gets in Mikey’s fucking face and screams right back. Not like Gerard at all. “Alright, buddy, I’m fucking sorry about your brother, alright? Maybe he fucking took some shit and somehow made me get in his body, fuck if I knew! I wouldn’t be fucking screaming at all you fucking cunts if I knew what the fuck happened!” 

Mikey squints, “What’s your opinion on women’s rights?” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Fuck ‘em! I’m gay as hell!” Gerard snaps. 

“You’re not Gerard.” Mikey says.

Not-Gerard throws his hands up into the air. “What have I been trying to fucking tell you for the past half hour?” 

“You said your name is Frank?” 

Not-Gerard nods. 

“Have you tried calling your cell?” Mikey asks. 

Frank’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. Mikey passes him back his phone.

As Frank types on the keypad, Mikey turns to look at the other guys. Spencer, Josh, Brendon and Pete stare back at him. “What the fuck.” Josh mouths and Spencer gapes. 

“Hello?” Frank says into Mikey’s phone. 

“ _Holy fucking shit._ ” The voice on the other side of the line says and Frank’s eyes bulge. 

“You have a broken nose and sore-ass throat?” Frank asks and Mikey scrunches his nose in confusion and looks from Frank to Pete and back again. Pete shrugs.

“ _Yeah. I’m assuming they belong to you?_ ” 

“They do.” Frank laughs darkly. “Sorry about that.”

“ _Also assuming it wasn’t your fault? What did you do?”_

Frank grimaces, “Well. Got essentially raped down the throat by this fuckhead at my school and then I called him gay for liking it so he stomped on my face. Broke my nose.” Both sides of the line are quiet until Pete breaks it. 

“Jesus, dude.” 

“ _Is that Pete? Tell that motherfucker to shut up._ _Dude oh my God I’m so sorry, Christ. What a comeback though._ ” The guy on the other side of the line laughs a little. 

Mikey finds his voice, shaking the shock to the side. “Gerard?” 

“ _Mikey? Oh my God, dude what’s happening right now, what the hell?_ ”

“Wait.” Frank says, suddenly flushing pink. “Are you—am I still—“

“ _In the bath? Yeah_.” 

“Huh.” 

“ _You’ve got a nice dick if that helps any._ ” 

Mikey makes a choking noise and Pete, Josh, Spencer and Brendon absolutely fucking lose it. 

“Thank you?” Frank says, blush deepening. 

“ _Did I just say that out loud?_ ”

“Gerard, we don’t say those things to people.” Mikey says, giving the guys a glare. (But seriously what the hell). 

“ _Sorry._ ” 

“You don’t have to be.” Frank breaks in and immediately falls silent. 

“Gee, are you okay?” Mikey asks, eager to change the subject. 

“ _Other than my fucking head feeling like it got run over, yeah I guess so. I still feel really bad about what happened to you— Hey what’s your name?_ ”

“Frank.” Frank says quietly. 

“ _Frank hmm.You don’t look like a Frank.”_

“What do I look like, then?” Frank retorts, turning further to face closer to the wall.

Gerard is silent on the other line for a bit before responding. “ _I’m not sure, maybe an Aaron_?”

“Aaron?” Frank shakes his head and mouths, _what?_ to Mikey. Mikey shrugs, exasperated and takes the phone from Frank. 

“Gee, did you take anything?”

“ _What? What do you mean?”_ Gerard asks, clearly confused. 

Mikey tips his head back and sighs for approximately the thousandth time this night. “I mean did you take any drugs or drink anything or in some way cause you and Frank to apparently switch bodies?” 

“ _No, Mikey, I told you I was done. Do you really think I would do that?_ ” Gerard’s voice goes sad and turns whispery as he speaks to his brother. 

“I don’t know what to think, Gerard! These things don’t just happen!” 

Gerard sighs. “ _I don’t know what’s going on, okay? I didn’t take or drink or smoke or do anything other than DM for your loser friends!_ ”

Frank takes this opportunity to poke Brendon. “What’s a DM?” 

Wrapped up in watching the exchange, and rather enjoying it, Brendon turns to face Frank with an odd look. “It’s so weird to hear that come out of Gerard’s mouth!” He laughs. “That motherfucker lectures us every time we get some stupid terminology wrong!” 

Frank is growing more and more upset the more minutes go by and questions remain unanswered. “Can you just fucking tell me?”

Brendon stops laughing. “Yeah, sorry. DM is short for Dungeon Master, from y’know, DnD?”

Frank gives Brendon a blank look. 

“Dungeons and Dragons?” 

“Oh. I’ve never played that before.” 

“You totally should! It’s super fun, even with Gee DMing, he’s pretty cool when he’s not screaming at Pete, but even that’s great!” 

“Fuck off.” Pete breaks into the conversation. Brendon sticks his tongue out and turns back to Frank. 

“Once all this is resolved,” he waves his hands around. “You should join us for a session or something!” 

Frank considers this. “Maybe.” 

“Oh, totally. Wait until Gerard goes nuts having to make up a whole backstory for that.” Josh blows smoke rings from his seat around the table, not appearing to have moved since he sat down. 

Frank frowns, it seems like this Gerard guy had enough problems already. “I don't wanna make shit more difficult—”

“No, dude, chill. He likes it, he’d love to have you join, I’m sure.” Brendon tells him and Frank shrugs and nods a little. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Where do you live, Frank?” Mikey breaks in suddenly. 

Frank jumps a little bit, looking startled, “What? Why?” 

Mikey rolls his eyes, “To go and get Gerard so we can switch you two back.” 

“Oh.” Frank fidgets. “Jersey. Belleville.” 

“What are the odds,” Mikey mumbles. “That’s where we are right now. Specifics please.” 

-

After washing the guy’s— _Frank’s_ body, Gerard drains the tub and wraps himself in a towel, feeling weird about getting all up in a stranger’s junk. Even though it was kinda like his junk now, but not? Gerard’s fucking head hurt. _Frank’s_ fucking head hurt. The poor guy. 

It had felt weird to have a conversation with himself? His voice? Totally fucking bonkers. And hearing himself speak with a voice that did not belong to him? All this was so fucking weird and trippy. 

Gerard rubbed his throat and turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. Frank was very pretty, even with a broken nose and bruised face and throat. _Had the guy choked him?_ Gerard didn’t know. With the better clarity of the mirror, rather than the warped back of a shower head, Gerard could see that Frank had his lip pierced. He bit it. The reflection made Gerard shiver. God, this kid was attractive. He’d totally kick a leg up and masturbate if it wasn’t wrong on so many fucking levels. 

He had no idea how old this kid was, still in school from his earlier words on the phone. That meant he was underage, practically guaranteed it. He’d never met the guy and had already touched his dick, even it was just to clean it (it was a really nice dick. Gerard wanted to lick it). 

He shook his head violently and groaned at the obvious mistake, head throbbing. 

Tucking the longer half of hair behind his ear, Gerard moves to turn the knob and peer warily out into the hallway. It was still and silent. 

The door across the hall is ajar so Gerard heads in there. He recognizes some of the posters plastered along the walls and smiles. Judging from Frank’s appearance (not that he was trying to make assumptions about the kid), it seemed this room belonged to him. 

The sooner he had clothes on, the better.

-

“Hey, Toro.” 

“ _Mikey? Hey, what’s up?_ ” 

Mikey makes a face. “We’ve got a little bit of a situation.” 

The other line is quiet for a pace. “ _What do you need?_ ” 

“I’m not even going to try and explain why, but I need you to drive me and Gerard across town. We’d walk, but it’s cold as balls and—” he peers outside, groaning and closing his eyes. “It’s snowing. Just, please, dude.” 

Toro laughs a little. “ _Yeah, alright. It’s not like you haven’t asked me shit like this before. I’ll be there in like 15 minutes or so?_ ”

“Thank you, seriously dude.” 

“ _It’s no problem, really._ ” 

As the phone goes dead, Mikey pulls off his glasses and tilts his head to rest against the cold glass of the living room windowpane.

“Could this night get any weirder?” Pete’s voice drifts across the room. 

Mikey keeps his eyes shut and his head against the window, “Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it.” 

“Sorry. How’d you get Alicia to let you leave?” Mikey can feel the shift as Pete moves to lean against the wall beside him.

Mikey holds his breath. “She told me we need a break.” 

Pete hisses softly, “Shit, Mikes, sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Her head was awful.” 

Pete laughs. 

Mikey stays quiet for a minute before saying, “Yours is better.” 

“‘Course it is,” Pete says, staying uncharacteristically silent for a pace before lowering his voice. “You change your mind about my proposal?” 

“Not right now, Pete.” Mikey chews his cheek.

“You’re the one that brought it up.” Pete’s voice gains an edge.

Mikey sighs and stands up, wiping the chill from his forehead and sliding his glasses back on. “I know. I’m sorry, just there’s too much going on right now. We’ll talk about it once we get Gerard back, I promise.” 

Pete turns Mikey’s face back to his with a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’m counting on it.” He nods. 

“We gonna fucking leave anytime soon?” Frank comes stomping up the stairs, arms crossed. Pete’s hand quickly comes down and he pointedly meets Mikey’s eyes before he turns around. The pout of Gerard’s lips and the way Frank was holding himself as tall as possible was oddly different from Gerard’s usual mannerisms of slouching and keeping his head down. 

“Yeah, just we don’t have a car right now, so I called someone who does.” 

“I’ve got a truck,” Josh says as comes trudging up the stairs, fresh joint spurting smoke between his lips. “So does Brendon.” 

“No one is going but Frank and I.” Mikey says, glancing at his phone as it vibrates. 

“Uh, there’s no fucking way I’m missing this.” Brendon says, pushing past Josh, Spencer hot on his heels. 

“No.” Mikey says, jamming his phone away and moving to grab Frank’s wrist. “Don’t burn the house down or my mother will flay your corpse.” He drags Frank behind him, slamming the door. 

“You trust _those guys_ in your house alone?” Frank asks as they make their way to Toro’s Toyota Camry, shaking free of Mikey’s vice-like grip.

“Hell no,” Mikey snorts. “But there's not room in Toro’s car and I don’t want to deal with them.” 

Frank pauses. “Fair enough, I guess.” 

Mikey pulls open the passenger door and tilts his head to the backseat and back to Frank. He groans. 

“Hey Gee, hey Mikey!” Toro grins as Mikey buckles his seatbelt and Frank slides in back. 

“Did you not tell him?” Frank kicks the back of Mikey’s seat. 

Mikey sighs, “Ray, somehow Gerard switched bodies with this kid called Frank. Frank meet Toro, Toro meet Frank.” 

Toro blinks and nods, “Alright. Hey, Frank.” 

Frank made a face, “You’re just gonna accept that?” 

Toro shrugs, “Once you get to know the Ways, pretty much nothing phases you.” 

“I’m not sure how to take that.” Frank frowns.

“Let’s just go, okay? Frank, tell Toro your address.” 

-

Standing outside his own house, in a body that isn’t his is perhaps one of the strangest feelings that Frank has ever experienced. He feels like an outsider seeing his house for the first time, like he doesn’t belong almost.

Mikey approaches and rings the doorbell a few times, shocking Frank from his stupor. He grows anxious quickly, uncertainty bubbling up in his gut. This guy was in his body. _This guy_ had seen his dick. _This guy_ had _complimented_ his dick. And he was about to meet him, face-to-face. 

Ever impatient, Mikey pounds on the door, “Gerard!” He hollers. “Open the fucking door!” 

“Dude! My fucking neighbors!” Frank objects. “They’re all like old Catholic ladies and shit!” 

“Don’t care.” Mikey says, continuing to pound on the door and ring the bell. 

Frank turns back to Toro’s Toyota and receives a weak smile and a shrug like, “ _that’s just Mikeyway, man_.” 

Finally, _finally,_ Frank can hear the door being unlocked and it swings open. He stares at himself. 

“Shit I’m so fucking short.” Frank groans and burrows his face into his hands.

_Gerard_ laughs and _what the hell_ _that's what he sounds like when he laughs?_

“Frank, Jesus fuck.” Mikey says, peering at Gerard’s face, examining the darkening bruises around his eye and dried blood crusted around his nose and split lips. “You really weren’t kidding.” 

“No. I was not.” 

Gerard grimaces and makes a weird face at Frank, “God this is the weirdest shit that’s ever happened to me. Do I really look like that? Fuck.” 

“Man, you’re telling me! This is self-deprecating as hell.” Frank shifts his weight anxiously. 

Gerard’s face screws up suddenly and he waves his hands, shaking his head frantically. “No, no, no! That’s not what I meant! Like you’re very pretty, it just feels really fucking weird to see myself as a different person’s angle!”

Frank blushes. _What was with this guy?_ “Uh, yeah, I get it.” He nods and Gerard looks satisfied with himself. 

“You guys feel any different? Like how it was when you initially switched?” Mikey asks, checking his phone.

Frank jumps, having been all caught up in seeing himself as an outsider, he’d forgotten that Mikey was even there. 

Gerard shakes his head, _Frank’s head._ “No, just overwhelming pain.” 

Frank winces, “I’m really sorry about that, man. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.” 

“Neither should you.” Gerard tells him, face set with determination. “No one should.” 

“Like touch each other or something, see if that does anything.” Mikey prompts, waving his hand impatiently. 

Gerard blushes as Frank makes eye contact with him, feeling his own, _Gerard’s,_ cheeks flush. 

“Not like that, fucking Christ.” 

Gerard reaches out his hand and Frank hesitantly takes it. They stand there in the doorway of Frank’s house, entertained hands stretching across the threshold. Nothing happens.

Mikey huffs. “Anything?” 

Frank frowns and Gerard shakes his head. “No.” 

He frowns. “Maybe you have to kiss.” 

Frank looks pointedly away from Gerard, feeling his cheeks fucking blister for the third fucking time _what the fuck_ . “Why the hell would we need to do that? This is _not_ a goddamned fairy tail!” 

Mikey shrugs and Gerard tugs on his hand, “Hey, uh, it’s worth a shot, maybe we should go inside?” 

Still looking away and seeing no obvious alternatives, Frank nods and lets Gerard lead him inside. He drops Gerard’s hand and shuts the door, leaning against it. 

Gerard coughs and Frank looks up from the ground a little. Gerard wrings his hands and shuffles before opening his mouth to speak. “Hey, uh, Frank. I’m really awful at these types of things under normal circumstances, and this is just really fucking weird, I know, but it’s just like kissing ourselves, yeah?” Frank finds himself nodding, yes Gerard was right. It wasn’t like kissing a random dude you’ve never met before that happens to have miraculously popped into your body. Totally.

“Okay,” Gerard steps closer, crowding Frank against the door. “Heh, you are pretty short.” He laughs a little and stretches up on his toes, hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

Frank grins, “Shut up.” 

They stare at each other and Frank tentatively winds his hands around his own slender waist as the anxiety churns violently in his gut. 

He closes his eyes as his own face suddenly gets very close and then he feels chapped lips, _his own fucking split chapped gross lips_ against his own, _Gerard’s,_ soft, pliant lips.

They break away after a second and Frank opens his eyes, knowing from the obvious absence of pain that nothing had happened, and groans. “Fuck.” 

Gerard lets himself fall back onto the flats of his feet. “Fuck indeed.” 

-

Gerard sticks his head outside and Mikey looks at him expectantly. 

“Well?” 

Gerard frowns and shakes his head. “No, we, uh.” He cleared his throat. “We kissed and nothing happened.”

“That’s great! That’s fucking awesome! Super!” He kicks a rock off Frank’s porch, throwing his hands up in the air. “Dandy!” 

“Mikes, it’s not something you have to deal with, it’s my problem.” Gerard says, stepping outside, and anxiously licking at the dried blood on his lips and tasting Frank (himself?) 

Mikey rounds and clutches his hands into fists, eyes alight with fury. Being at Frank’s slighter frame, Mikey towers over his brother; Gerard’s heart hammers. “Yes, Gerard! Yes, it is my fucking problem because every time you have a problem, I have a problem! You can’t stay clean, so I have to not go to college and make sure you don’t accidentally OD and fucking kill yourself! You get into fights and make scenes and storm out, leaving me to deal with all the shit you leave behind! You’ve ruined countless relationships, your own, not to fucking mention mine! And now this! I can’t right now Gerard, okay? Not right fucking now!” 

Gerard cowers and backs away from his brother, violently flinching as he hits someone’s chest. 

“What the fuck, man?” _Frank._

“ _You_.” Mikey growls, “You stay the fuck out of this.” 

“No, I’m not fucking going to, _okay_? Look how fucking scared of you he is! Do you honestly think all that shit is his fault? I may have just met you both today, but I think it’s kind of fucking obvious that there’s a reason for addictions! A catalyst that seems like it might have been you!” Frank gently pushes Gerard behind him, stepping closer to Mikey. 

“Frank, don’t!” Gerard insists. 

Mikey seethes, “How dare you! You really have the audacity to say that shit to my face? _I_ got him addicted to booze? Cocaine? You’re fucking retarded! You don’t know me or my brother at all! You’re just some stupid little punk kid that gets beat up and raped by Jason the Jock!” 

Frank sees red and smashes his fist across Mikey’s jaw, leaping at him, punching and scratching at anything he can reach. 

“Fucking stop! Frank stop! Mikey!” Gerard wails, grabbing at Frank, desperate to pull him off his brother. 

Toro races out of his car, helping Gerard pull Frank off, pinning the seething, heaving form to the porch as Gerard cries above Mikey, apologizing over and over. 

-

Josh blows a long plume of smoke between his lips, kicking back Donna Way’s kitchen chair onto its hind legs and rocking slowly. The tinny voice siphoning from his phone chides him softly. 

“ _Josh, you’re high_.” 

“Of course I am, darling. But, no shit, Gerard Way’s body is being inhabited by some edgy high schooler.” Spencer snorts across the room, digging through the pantry with Brendon at his side. 

“ _Okay. Say you're telling me the truth and not just stoned out of your mind, what were you thinking?_ ” 

Josh replaces his blunt between his lips, “Those books you leave all over the house, I know you’re into this shit. Maybe you’d like to take a look at him, see what’s up?” 

The other voice gains a curious edge, “ _Maybe I would.. but I’d need the pair._ ” 

Josh frowns. “The pair?” 

“He means Frank’s body, where Gerard is, fuckhead.” Pete supplies, lounging across the bar. 

Josh lets the chair fall back onto all four legs and gives Pete a firm shove. He topples to the floor. 

“ _Yeah, Pete’s right._ ” 

“Please, Ty. Never say that again.” 

“Oh, Tyler!” Brendon coos, standing up, tilting a handful of Captain Crunch down his throat. “Could you make me a magic dildo? I so do wish to be able to fuck myself!” 

“ _I’m hanging up, Josh. Call me back if you find anything else out._ ”

“Ok.” Josh says, shoving his phone away and smacking the box of cereal out of Brendon’s hand, kicking him in the ass as he bent to retrieve the box.

“Yes daddy, harder!” Brendon moans from the floor, face pressed into the colorful pieces of cereal that had spilled when Josh had knocked the open box from Brendon’s loose grip. Spencer giggles and hiccups and falls into a shelf in the pantry, knocking it down. 

Josh frowns at the pile of Pete Wentz on the floor, having not moved from where Josh had shoved him off the counter. “What’s up with you, Wentz? You don’t have anything to add?” Josh puts his foot on Pete’s shoulder.

Pete lazily bats at Josh’s muddy boot and rolls over. “Fuck off.” 

“Wentz.” Josh says, pushing down harder, causing Pete to roll back onto his back, dark hair fanning across his forehead. 

“It’s just Mikey,” he admits quietly, glancing over to Brendon and Spencer, who clearly were not paying attention, having knocked over another shelf in the pantry. “Donna’s gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t change the subject. What about Mikey? He kiss you again?” Josh takes his foot off of Pete and offers a hand down to him. 

Pete shakes his head, accepting the hand Josh had extended. “He didn’t kiss me. Alicia broke up with him, he told me earlier.” 

Josh hisses through his teeth. “Please don’t tell me you let him con you into being his fucking rebound. I swear to god Wentz—“

“No Josh, I’m not his rebound! And I’m not dating him!” 

“Well then, what happened?”

Pete cards his hand through his hair, “He told me I gave better head than Alicia—“

Josh holds up his hands, “Dude, I really didn’t need to know that.” 

“Will you stop fucking interrupting me? God.”

“ _Jesus_ , fine.” 

“ _Anyway_ , he told me that and I was like ‘of course I do’ and then I asked him if he’d thought about what I said before he and Alicia got together, and he said _not right now, Pete_.”

“Well, he did just get broken up with.”

“Yes I fucking know that, Josh. He did promise me that we’d talk about it after he got the whole Gerard situation figured out.” 

“Do you get the impression that Gerard’s really been stressing him out lately?” Josh says, bringing his voice down even lower.

Pete nods, “Yeah. I think he needs space from him. This whole Frank and Gerard thing is _not_ what he needs right now.” 

“Spencer!” Brendon screams, causing Josh and Pete to turn around to find the entire fucking pantry a mess of fallen shelves and punctured food packages. In the midst of the chaos was Spencer, looking very high and very guilty. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Pete groans, covering his face with his hands.

-

Frank sits in a creaky hospital waiting room chair, his foot tapping out a repetitive beat on the floor. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Gerard tells him, readjusting the ice pack pressed firmly to his nose.

Frank frowns and turns to look at the other. “All that shit he said about you, I couldn’t just fucking stand there and watch it happen!”

“It’s my fault, I’m the fuckup. Everything Mikey said was true,” he pauses. “And more.”

“Still, he was being a fucking asshole!” Frank looks at Gerard and digs Gerard’s jagged fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

Gerard doesn’t say anything back and Frank still feels like shit. He sighs, “I’m sorry, Gerard. About all this. Seems like you don’t need anymore problems. I know I sure don’t.”

Gerard looks up from Frank’s beat up chucks up to his face, “It isn’t your fault. The body switching stuff, I mean. And I don’t think it’s mine, but maybe I did take something. I don’t remember.” He scrunches his brow, then grimaces.

“How’s the face feeling?” Frank asks, Gerard having just returned bearing the news that Frank had indeed broken his nose when his face had gotten stomped on. 

Gerard removes the ice pack and raises a tentative hand to touch the swollen skin, wincing as his fingers make contact. “Still doesn’t feel too great. Are you sure you’re not going to report the guy who did it? He sexually assaulted you, Frank. That’s a serious offense.” He looks at Frank and the corners of his lips turn downward, sadly.

Frank nods, “Like I said, I don’t need anymore shit. Those fuckers would make my life hell if I ratted on them.” 

Gerard sighs, leaning back in the old seat and putting the ice pack back into place, “Man, I fucking hated high school.” 

“I think that’s a given with everyone. How old are you?” 

“I’m twenty. And I live in my mom’s basement.” He groans. “I’ve got to get a life, saying that out loud, _fuck._ ”

“Hey, there’s no shame in that, man.”

Gerard raises an eyebrow and half smiles, “Uh, yeah, Frank. There’s a whole lotta shame in that.” 

Frank pouts. “Well that’s the way you look at it.”

“Also the way my mother, friends and Mikey look at it.”

“Well fuck them.”

“Frank, please.” Gerard pulls his legs up to his chest. He changes the subject. “Your body's so different from mine. Even moving around feels different. So weird.” 

Frank looks down at Gerard’s body, completely swathed in black and nods. Looking over at his own body, Frank once again is struck with the realization that this guy had seen him naked. His impulse control is poor, so Frank doesn’t even try to stop himself. “So. Earlier, you said something about my dick.”

Gerard’s face flushes down to his neck. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Hey, dude, chill. I’m not straight at all.”

Gerard lets the ice pack fall into his lap and waves his hands around, “No, no! It’s not that! It’s just that you’re so much younger and it’s fucking weird and illegal and god, fuck I shouldn’t have said anything!”

Frank squints, “How old do you think I am?” 

“I don’t know!” Gerard shrugs. “Maybe like 15?”

“Almost 17.” Frank tells him, lips drawn up into an upset pout. 

“Still,” Gerard buries his face in his hands and groans, readjusting them around his nose. 

“Four years.” Frank says, poking at Gerard’s shoulder. 

“Frank--”

“Almost three years.” 

Gerard opens his mouth as if to respond, but is interrupted by Toro rounding the corner.

“Alright, Mikey’s okay, he does have a bruised jaw and a tooth that got knocked a little loose, though. You’ve got a solid right hook, Frank.” Toro tells them, as he comes into view, Mikey in tow. “..or I guess Gerard does?” The former speaks softly into his phone, nodding. 

Gerard stands up, hurrying over to Mikey and looking up at him expectantly, eyes wide and blinking quickly. Mikey says something to him and Gerard smiles and moves as if to head back over to Frank and Toro, but stops at something else his brother says. His smile shifts to a frown and his eyes cast downward as he says something back. Frank narrows his eyes and gets to his feet as Toro heads over to him. 

He smiles sadly, “I hope this all works out for you guys.”

“Thanks, man.” Frank says, distractedly. 

Gerard had come back over, Mikey trudging along behind him. “Josh just called Mikey, says he might have an idea for helping us switch back.” He nods at Frank and Toro, turning back to fix the former with a pointed glare, tilting his head towards Mikey.

Frank looks at his feet. “I’m sorry.” He grits out through his teeth. “What’s the plan?”

-

To speak the full unfiltered truth, Tyler Dun Joseph was really fucking weird. Being the reclusive husband of the angry stoner boy who only came out of the house to purchase thick ancient books, gained him somewhat of an unsavory reputation. 

He was an enigma, a mystery to the surrounding neighbors. They were dreadfully curious, but frightened enough that they would not go around asking questions about him. At least not very many of them.

The occasional neighborhood-wide power outage was a normal occurrence at this point (even though some of the older residents claimed they hadn’t started until the Dun Josephs had moved in) as well as the loud chanting that rang out late into the night, in what could only be a foreign language, irritated the lot of the neighbors to the point where a few had started meeting regularly to figure a solution (that was preferably not confrontational). 

Tyler himself was not bothered by all of this in the slightest (this was mostly due to the fact that he did not know, and Josh would like to keep it that way, thank you very much). 

Tyler kept himself quite busy with his work (musician, part time alchemist) and was very passionate about it (although recently, it seemed like he was more of an alchemist, part time musician. That was okay with Tyler. Alchemy was awesome and as far as Tyler was aware, he was the only practicing alchemist in Jersey). 

Tyler loved his husband tremendously and spent as much time with him as their schedules allowed. Concerning Josh’s close relationship with marijuana, Tyler was considerably indifferent about it (mostly due to the fact that Tyler was an avid user himself. It helped with the alchemy. Yes it fucking does, Jenna, okay?)

After getting off the phone with Josh, Tyler was instantly making his way to his library as thoughts and ideas swirled rampantly through his crowded mind. These thoughts demanded precedence! Finally! Something to put his skills to the test! A case! To say that Tyler was excited would be an understatement. Tyler was fucking amped. It had been difficult to remain sounding nonchalant and vaguely interested as Josh spoke to him about Gerard Way’s newest mishap. Josh could probably tell he was putting up an act (Josh always knew). 

Tyler knew Gerard, of course; they had gone to high school together, after all. He was a sweet guy, but an unfortunate train wreck of a sweet guy. Tyler did want to help Gerard out, but that only accounted for a fraction of the reason Tyler was so eager to work on the case. It was a case! A motherfucking case! For Tyler! This was going to be excellent. 

“This is going to be excellent,” Tyler whispers aloud as a thin blond cat bounds from the top of the bookcase nearest Tyler to his shoulder. He patted the creature absentmindedly as the index finger of his opposing hand trailed along the row of lined bindings. 

“Help me, won’t you?” Tyler requests, tugging out a few of the thick books. The little cat twitches its a tail in an annoyed sort of way as it leapt from his shoulder down to the dark oaken desk. In the fraction of a second before it landed, a golden flash of light shimmers and sitting in the place the feline should have landed was a pretty young women with long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. 

“A case?” She asks eagerly. Tyler doesn’t look up from where he’d flipped open one of the books and nods distractedly. “Look for anything body switching related.” He tells her and the girl sighs softly, dragging one of the many books Tyler had dug from his shelf into her lap. 

“A case, Jenna!” Tyler reminds her, looking up quickly and Jenna nods, mostly to herself, and cracks open the book. 

-

Toro’s Toyota is thick with obvious tension on the ride back to Gerard and Mikey’s place. Mikey had promptly slid into the passenger seat, leaving Gerard and Frank to sit together in the back.

Gerard is seemingly uncharacteristically quiet throughout the ride. They all are, excluding Toro who was tapping fingers along the wheel to the shreddy punk music he has on, which Frank appreciates. It’s good music and it gives him something to focus on other than the fucking rollercoaster of a day he’s had so far. 

Frank sticks his cold hands in between his legs and cranes his neck to look at the time. 6:48 left plenty of time to get back into his own body before his mother gets off her shift from the hospital. (At least he hopes). Oh, God. _His mother_. What the fuck is he going to say to her if Josh’s friend can’t switch them back? What is it’s permanent? Oh, God.

Frank’s head lurches forward with the sudden stop of the car. Toro hisses, “Sorry guys,” and fiddles with something Frank can’t see. “Damn, I need a new car. I’ve gotta get home, I’m heading back up to my campus early tomorrow, but let me know how everything turns out?” Looking out the window, Frank is surprised to be back at Mikey and Gerard’s house already. 

“Sure.” Mikey tells him, sliding his phone into his hoodie pocket. “Thanks for the ride, Ray. Sorry about all this.”

Toro--Ray--gives Mikey a serious look. “It’s not your fault. It'll be okay, you'll see.” 

Mikey nods, but even Frank, having only meet the guy a couple of hours ago, can tell that he doesn’t believe him. Gerard doesn’t say a word.

They file out of the car and Frank waves as Toro drives off. 

“Hey! Mikey!” Frank turns to see Pete standing in the open doorway, beckoning him inside. “Wooh! Frank, look at that shiner! Damn!” Frank flips him off and starts to trudge after Mikey, Gerard on his heels, as Josh, who has slid out from around Pete, calls out and gets their attention. 

“You two are with me.” He points at them and slides in the driver’s side of a grey truck, jamming his keys into the ignition. Gerard gets in the passenger and Frank opens the half door to the back preparing to hoist himself in, but stops at the sight of an absolute shitload of books threatening to topple out and bury him alive where he stands. 

“Shit.” Josh says, “Right, well forgot about those. You can sit in the passenger, Gerard scoot over here in the middle, fuck you weren’t kidding about getting your face stomped on.” He peers at Gerard’s face as Gerard slides over and bows his head. Frank clambers in beside Gerard and slams the truck’s door. “Why the hell would I?” 

Josh shrugs and puts the truck in reverse, looking over his shoulder, shoving an offending book out of the way. 

Frank snorts, “Like to read, do you?” 

Pulling out onto the road, Josh laughs. “Nah, they’re my husband’s. Or _were_ his, I should say. He’s who we’re going to see.” 

“‘Oh.” Frank says. He blinks and eyes Josh’s left hand. Sure enough, a somewhat dull silver band was wrapped around his fourth finger. “Why do you think he might be able to help us?” He eventually asks. 

Josh laughs, “Oh, he eats this shit up!” 

“What?” Frank’s brows knit together in confusion.

“He’s an alchemist.” Josh clarifies. “Or at least, that’s what he calls it.” He puts on his turn signal with a flick of his wrist. Gerard looks up slightly, as if he wanted to make a comment, but stayed silent and went back to eyeing Frank’s chucks.

“Okay, I still have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” Frank tells Josh, narrowing his eyes slightly at Gerard’s oddness. Maybe the guy was prone to mood swings? Frank didn’t know.

“I’ll let him explain. I really don’t know what the fuck he does half the time either.” Josh hadn’t seemed to notice Gerard’s apprehension and gives the wheel a hard pull. “Oh! I should warn you, he’s got a familiar.”

Frank’s eyes bulge. He _does_ knows what familiars are and that they’re fucking rad. “Are you serious? What is it?”

Josh laughs again, “So you know what that one is?”

“Hell yeah!” Frank says, flapping his hands wildly. 

“She’s a cat, sometimes. Her name’s Jenna and she's kind of an asshole.” He frowns and scratches his cheek. “At least to me.” 

“Fucking rad.” Frank breathes out. 

“What’s up with you, Gee? You’re quiet.” Josh looks to his right for a second, as if he’d just remembered that even though the guy talking looked like Gerard, he most certainly was not. 

Gerard shifts minutely and mumbles. “Face hurts.” 

Frank frowns and impulsively puts his hand on Gerard’s arm. “Sorry.” He thinks back to Mikey saying something to Gerard at the hospital that had made him frown, and wonders if that had something to do with his quietness. Gerard’d had Frank’s injuries since Frank had met him, and he certainly hadn’t been this quiet then. Something had changed. Something significant.

“Don’t apologize.” Gerard tells him, looking up from beneath Frank’s bangs and shifts marginally closer to him. He finds Frank’s hand and holds on tight. Frank’s insides sing. 

-

Pete had figured the best way to distract Mikey would be giving him something to focus on and taking Gerard out of the picture. The first had been a no brainer, Spencer and Brendon had made a horrific mess of Donna’s kitchen and Pete knew damn well how much Mikey enjoyed yelling at people. The second, well, Josh had that covered. 

The real challenge would be making Mikey forget about Gerard and his newest fuck up. Pete figured there was an entire quartex in Mikey’s brain that was completely and utterly dedicated to Gerard and his well-being. Mikey cared furiously for his older brother and helped him with every aspect of his life, but one person could only handle so much. The Way brothers spent so much of their time together that Pete was pretty sure Mikey was progressively going insane. 

Long-term solutions could be figured out later, Pete rationalizes. For now, he leads Mikey by the elbow into his house as Josh’s truck roars to life outside. 

“Just to warn you, Brendon and Spencer fucking destroyed your pantry.” Pete says. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mikey groans, tipping his head back. With the new position, the hood slips off Mikey’s head and Pete can clearly see a purplish-red flush blooming along the left side of his jaw.

Pete reaches out to touch the bruising, but restrains himself from making contact. “Jesus christ,” he breathes. “What the hell happened?”

Mikey tightens his jaw and winces, tugging an ice pack from his hoodie pocket to rest against the bruise. “Frank fucking happened.” 

Pete narrows his eyes in confusion, not wanting to bring the subject up but worried enough to continue speaking. “What do you mean, ‘Frank fucking happened’?”

Mikey jams the ice pack back in his hoodie and scrubs his eyes for a second. “He punched me.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“‘Cause I blew up on Gee. I guess Frank feels protective of him or something which is fucking stupid because he’s like twelve and just randomly fucking appeared in Gerard’s body today. He doesn’t know either of us and he just decided to intervene in our personal lives!” Mikey puts his ice pack back on his face and goes quiet. 

Pete opens and closes his mouth a few times before responding. “Alright. How about we go into the kitchen and you can yell at Spencer and Brendon?”

“I’d like that.” Mikey says softly, but doesn’t move. 

Pete frowns. “There’s more.” It’s a statement, not a question because Pete knows from the moment he says it that it’s true.

Mikey nods minutely and shuffles his feet. “I’m an asshole.” He mumbles and switches hands with his ice pack. Pete allows him the silence to continue speaking. “Back when we were at the hospital for,” He gestures to the left side of his face and Pete nods encouragingly. “This, I told Gee that I’m starting college next semester.”

“What?” Pete says, genuine shock showing on his face.

“I was upset with him when I said it, but I want to, Pete. I really fucking want to!” He moves so he isn’t leaning against the wall anymore and waves his hand in a manner that reminds Pete of Gerard. “We graduated almost two years ago, Pete! I’ve been living with my mom and Gerard my entire life and I’ll be twenty next year!” He looks at the ground for a minute before continuing. “I want to do this for myself but I’m so scared for him! So fucking scared.” It takes Pete a minute to register the fact that Mikey’s crying. Pete doesn’t hesitate before stepping across the small space in-between them and enveloping Mikey in a tight hug. 

Mikey sobs against his shoulder. “He’s so naive and at the same time he’s so fucking smart and he has so many opportunities to do amazing things with his life and I really want that for him, more than anything! I do! But at the same time I want to do amazing things with my life, but if I leave him... But if I leave, he’ll kill himself.” Mikey goes very quiet, voice and sobs alike. 

“Why?” Pete says carefully and slowly. “Why would you think that?”

The answer he gets in return is deathly quiet. “Because that’s what he told me he’d do if I left.”

-

“Hey,” a woman around Frank’s height greeted as she opened the door. She grinned at all of them in turn, features turning sly as she catches sight of Josh. “You guys must be our clients! And Josh. Come on in, Ty’s been expecting you!” She steps back, allowing them to pass by her and into the house 

Frank eyes the woman, that can only be Jenna, as she shuts the door and began doing up several locks along the edges. “Tight security.” He says.

She looks over her shoulder to grin at him again. “Oh, yeah. We’ve got a lot of important information here!”

Too eager to continue the banter, Frank cuts to the chase. “Josh says you’re a familiar.”

Josh groans from somewhere behind Frank and Jenna’s face lights up. “I am! Would you like to see?” 

“Hell yeah!” Frank exclaims.

In a sudden burst of gold light, Jenna’s slight frame disappears. As the shimmer disperses, Frank looks down and frowns, seeing nothing. He jumps slightly as something soft lands on his shoulder, a rumbling purr starting up right beside his ear. 

“Rad,” Frank grins, bringing a hand up to stroke the cat’s silky fur. 

“You’re only encouraging her,” Josh sighs. “C’mon, let’s head upstairs.” Frank turns around slowly, not wanting to disturb Jenna, who seemed rather content in her new position, only to see Gerard staring up at her. 

“Jesus, dude,” Frank brings his hand up to rest against his heart. “I’m gonna have a heart attack at this rate.” He laughs and smiles at Gerard.

Gerard carefully smiles back and reaches up to scratch Jenna beneath her chin. 

“Pretty awesome, huh?” Frank asks. 

“Yeah.” Gerard nods his head and visibly chews the inside of his cheek. “Let’s get this figured out?” He looks up to the spiraling staircase Josh had climbed and Frank frowns slightly. 

“Gerard?” He asks softly, prompting the other to turn back around. 

“Yeah?”

Frank shifts his weight, unsure if he should even be barging in on what was clearly personal business. Probably not, but he couldn’t help himself. “Are you okay?” 

Gerard looks back to the floor and shakes his head. “No.” His voice is very quiet and Frank has to strain to hear his reply. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Frank prompts, reaching out to touch his arm. 

“Not right now.” He looks up into Frank’s eyes and gently pulls away, turning to head up the stairs. Frank watches him disappear in silence. So Frank had been right. There _was_ something wrong. He envisioned his fist slamming across Mikey’s jaw a few more times. 

Jenna mews softly in his ear, waking him from his stupor. “Alright, alright, I’m going up.” He shakes his head and moves to climb the spiraling staircase. That in itself seemed very magical to Frank, having never climbed one in his life, let alone see one. Nevermind the fact he was currently in someone else’s body with a familiar on his shoulder, the stairs were the abnormality. Frank snorts. 

As he reaches the top, he finds himself to be alone and curiously peers around the corner. Jenna leaps from his shoulder and, transforming in another blast of gold, hits the ground as a woman once again. She smiles back at him, beckoning. “This way.” 

Frank follows her in relative silence, wondering if she could understand English while a cat. His forehead creases as he frowns, had that been why Gerard wouldn’t talk? Or maybe it was Frank, being a stranger and all. 

“You get lost, man?” Josh asks as Frank follows Jenna into a large room, filled floor to ceiling with tall cases, jammed with books. 

Frank tilts his head back and spins in a circle, attempting to see it all. “Shit,” he breathes. 

“Frank, I presume?” Frank looks back down to meet the mocha gaze of a guy in a floral kimono, around Frank’s— _Gerard’s_ —height

Frank bobs his head at him. “Josh’s husband, I presume?” He mimics. The guy smiles faintly, glancing over to Josh. “Tyler.” 

“You think you can help us?” Frank wants to know. 

Tyler inclines his head, “I’ll give it a shot.” He gestures behind Frank and he turns to see Gerard sitting silently in one of two hard wooden chairs. “If you would?” 

“Sure,” Frank goes to sit down beside Gerard and crosses his legs, bouncing them anxiously. 

Tyler moves close to speak to Jenna and she nods, leaving the room. As Tyler leans over a table, arms bracketing a thick book, a hand slips into his own once more. 

Frank quickly turns to look at Gerard, finding him identical to how he’d been for the past half hour. Silent. Still. But this time, flushing faintly. Frank grinned and squeezed Gerard’s hand. He squeezed back. 

Jenna returns with a plastic Tupperware tub filled with some kind of clear goo. Standing before the two seated boys, Jenna pops the lid off and digs her finger into it, reaching out to brush back the dark mess of hair across Frank’s forehead. 

Frank leans back and goes, “Woah, woah, woah, lady! You might be a fucking rad ass supernatural being but that shit’s not going anywhere near me until you explain what the hell it is and what the hell it’s gonna do!” 

Jenna blinks for a moment, pausing in her actions. Tyler breaks in. “It’s to help me determine what’s going on, it’ll act like a,” Tyler waves his hand around, “window into your head so I can hopefully figure out what caused this and how best to go about solving the problem.” 

“Uh, thanks but no thanks,” Frank starts, standing up and pulling Gerard with him. “I don’t want you fishing around in my head, Professor Snape!!” 

Tyler laughs making Frank frown deeper. “Hey, man, I’m not gonna like watch your wet dreams or anything. The mixer will only work for the purpose I made it for. Gee, you trust me, right?” 

Frank looks down at Gerard, who nods and gently tugs Frank back to the chairs. 

“Gerard?” Frank questions, “You’re gonna accept that mysteriously vague answer?”

“Tyler and I went to school together. He’s a good guy. Knows what he’s doing.” Gerard nods at Frank and grips his hand tighter. “I trust him.” 

Frank looks over Gerard’s face, searching for anything that suggests otherwise. He frowns and sets his face, nodding. “Alright. Me too, I guess.” 

“Excellent,” Tyler says, turning back to his book. 

Jenna reaches out and brushes Gerard’s greasy overgrown bangs from his forehead and smears a thick layer of the so called _mixer_ over the skin. Frank shudders as a somewhat sticky feeling like an egg being cracked trickles over his skin. Gerard’s hair flops back into his face. Frank angles his lips up and tries to puff the bangs out of his eyes, no to avail. 

A shiver communicated through their linked hands in turn makes Frank shudder again. Looking over, shows him that while he was struggling with Gerard’s fringe, Jenna had applied the mixer to Gerard’s forehead. 

Frank squinted at the glossy sheen over his own head. “You okay?” He asks Gerard softly as Jenna moves back over to Tyler and the book. Josh had seemingly disappeared. 

“Yeah. Kinda itches, though.” Gerard makes a face and Frank giggles. “You?” 

“It’s all wet and sticky, but it’s bearable I guess.” Frank wrinkles his nose and pushes the hair stuck to the mixer out of his line of sight. 

Gerard laughs, and Frank squints at him once more. “What?” 

“That’s what she said.” Gerard tells him before dissolving into giggles. Frank tries to keep his face neutral but ultimately, loses and joins the other in hysterics. 

“All right goofballs,” Tyler announces. “I’m ready to start. Are you?” 

-

“Josh?”

“Hey, man, you alright?”

“... Josh, Mikey, Gerard… oh my god.” 

“What? Pete, what are you talking about?”

“Mikey just told me, he told me Gerard said he’d kill himself if Mikey left and Mikey said he’s leaving, going to college! He’s scared, genuinely scared. Josh, he told Gerard, he told him, he knows.”

-

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Tyler frowns, “No, I’m being completely serious. What would lead you to believe that?” 

“Soulmates? We switched bodies because we’re soulmates? Okay then, why today? What’s so fucking special about today?”

“I don’t have all the answers, Frank—“

“Well, maybe you should!”

“Frank,” Gerard’s voice is firm and Frank turns, focusing in on it. “I know all this is so fucking weird and confusing, but I haven’t heard any other explanation for what’s happened to us today, so, let’s at least give him a chance to explain?” Gerard’s hand still curled around Frank’s feels good and solid and warm so Frank looks at Gerard’s shoes and says okay.

“I apologize for not having an immediate solution, this is the first circumstance I’ve ever encountered with something like this. It’s not entirely unheard of though, soulmates switching bodies.” Tyler’s voice has calmed down significantly as he speaks, delving into a subject he’s obviously well-versed and passionate in. “And of course, soulmates myths have been around for ages, in various cultures and popularly written about in works of fiction. I’ll definitely need to do some more research, but I’m almost a hundred percent sure that this is what has happened to the two of you.” 

Gerard’s hand in his own has become cold and clammy and Frank looks over at him. The other’s face was already turned, looking at him, lips parted slightly. 

“Soulmates,” Gerard said quietly, looking up at him.

“Soulmates,” Tyler agrees. “In order to best develop and culminate the relationship, I suggest the two of you spend time getting to know each other.” 

“Getting to know each other?” Frank looks to Tyler, frowning slightly. “How? And relationship?” 

“Yes, relationship. You are aware that the word does not specifically mean a romantic one, I am sure.” 

Frank flushes and looks away. 

Tyler continues, “Yes. Spend time around one another, talk about your pasts, watch movies, eat food.” 

“Date each other?” Gerard asks, uncertainty clear in his voice. Frank’s heart flutters in his chest. 

“Are the pair of you not hearing what I’m saying? It doesn’t have to be romantic, but from what I’ve just read only from today, you two seem to be even more so close than some soulmates that have known each other for years. You say you only met today?” 

They flush in tandem. “Yes, a couple hours ago.” Gerard rubs the back of his neck and his fingers slip against Frank’s. 

“And yet you’ve not let go of each other’s hands the entire time you’ve been here.” Tyler says. 

Seemingly both realizing at the same time, Gerard and Frank look down at their twined hands and snap them back into their own laps, faces red. They shudder softly at the loss of contact, feeling significantly colder and more alone. 

“Now, don’t do that!” Tyler exclaims. “You’re just going to make yourselves feel worse. Soulbonds are touchy and complicated things. Yours so especially. They’re mainly based on physical contact, though some are mentally-based. Your case is the former, at least for now.” 

Their hands find purchase once more without either of them having to glance down, meeting perfectly in the middle. Gerard sighs happily and Frank gets warm tingles up his arm, he shifts closer against the other. Tyler grins. 

“You’ll want to stay close to each other, touch a lot. Even just in the little time you were apart just a minute ago, you must’ve felt the repercussions of losing connection, yes?”

Gerard nods and Frank finds his voice, “Yeah. Will we need to y’know, like touch all the time? Or we’ll get depressed?” 

“No, no, nothing like that.” Tyler waves his hands reassuringly. “Since the bond’s just started taking hold, it will be needy and require patience and nurturement to build it up healthy and strong. It won’t need as much then as it will now.” 

“Okay,” Gerard says quietly. “Oh, shit! Frank you still go to school!” Frank can feel Gerard’s fear and anxiety coursing through him strong and cold. He felt it like it was his own.

Frantically, Frank turns to Tyler. “How long will we be like this? I have school on Monday!”

Tyler frowns. “In each other’s bodies? I have no idea at this point. I’d say your best bet is to build up the bond as much as you can, but don’t rush it! In order for a good, strong bond to be obtained, you need to take time for genuine experiences.” 

“I meant all needy and clingy to each other, but I hadn’t even thought about having school! I can’t go as Gerard, and oh fuck! My mother! What am I going to tell her?” Frank is suddenly filled with a worry so deep he felt as though he might drown in it. Tears stab at his eyes. Gerard wraps his arms tight around Frank and kisses the side of his head. Warmth and belongingness overflows from his embrace and Frank shivers with his whole body, grasping onto Gerard and his warmth as tightly as possible. “It’s going to be okay, Frankie.” He whispers and Frank believes him. 

“Huh,” Tyler remarks, his voice barely audible, as though he speaking to himself. “Emotions are heightened and taken to mean much more than they would normally be taken for. Interesting.” His pen scratches. Caught up in their embrace, Frank and Gerard do not react to his words, though they both hear and process them. 

-

When Gerard gets off the phone with Mikey, it was decided that Gerard and Frank would go back to Frank’s house. Frank was somehow even more angry with Mikey for his tone of voice as he spoke to Gerard. He just could not forget how he had spewed pure venom at Gerard, doused him in it. Blamed him. Screamed at him. 

Gerard tightened his arm around Frank’s waist as if he could hear Frank’s thoughts. Close to it, at least. Frank mutters an apology as he looks down at Gerard’s upset face. 

Josh’s truck roars down the familiar turns that Frank knows will take him home. Home. Home with Gerard. Something inside of Frank cheers and jumps up and down. It feels right. Home with Gerard. Frank shakes his head in wonder, gaining a bit of clarity. He’d met Gerard mere hours ago and he was having these insane thoughts! But they felt so right. So welcome and normal and perfect and god Frank could not believe this was happening to him. 

Mikey had not taken the whole “soulmates” thing very well. He’d laughed and then gone way too quiet to the point where Frank could not hear what he was saying to Gerard but judging by the latter’s expression and the transferred feelings of fear and helplessness, it had not been good. 

Now, the truck was dead silent, Josh had not tried to make conversation and Frank was grateful for it. He seemed to understand even though Frank was quite certain he and Tyler were not soulmates since Tyler had been so very fascinated with his and Gerard’s predicament. Maybe, Frank thought, people didn’t need to be soulmates to be in love. There was no way everyone married their soulmate even though Frank could not imagine marrying anyone else because no one had ever made him feel like Gerard made him feel. But most people didn’t meet their soulmates, according to Tyler and Frank thought that was a damn shame because this thing with Gerard, god, it was the most wonderful experience he’d ever had and couldn’t imagine going on without it. How the hell had he lived nearly 17 years without Gerard by his side? 

Thinking back to when they’d first met, first _kissed,_ Frank shivered at the thought, nothing had happened. No feeling was transferred through the contact. Nothing up until Tyler started tests on them. Did the bond clinginess have a delayed start? Frank could only assume so. 

The sudden absence of Josh’s truck’s deep rumbling almost makes Frank fall over as he is taken back to reality from the deep recesses of his mind. 

Josh clears his throat and turns to look over at him and Gerard, hand resting on the wheel. “Today’s been one hell of a day.”

Frank snorts and mutters, “Understatement of the year.” 

“Get some rest tonight, lots of times I find things to be better in the morning.” 

Gerard opens the passenger door and slides out, reaching his hand up for Frank to take. 

“Hey, Frank, uh. Just wait a second, Gerard give us a minute?” Josh shifts awkwardly against his seatbelt. 

Frank looks down at Gerard and frowns, then back to Josh. “Uh, why?”

“I—There’s just something you need to know.” 

“Why can’t Gerard hear too?” Frank feels anger bubbling beneath his skin. Gerard gives Frank’s hand a tight squeeze and nods a little bit. 

“I’ll wait out here, okay Frankie?” 

The truck door shuts once more. 

Frank turns to face Josh. “What?”

“C’mon man, don’t be like that. Earlier, Pete, you remember Pete?” 

Frank nods. 

“Good, uh, Pete I was on the phone with him while Tyler was doing, whatever he was doing to you guys, and he—“ Josh pauses, seemingly considering if he should continue. 

Frank huffs in annoyance, missing Gerard. “What? Just fuckin’ say it, c’mon.” 

“God, kid, alright, Pete says Mikey is in a really really bad state of mind and he and Gerard really need some time apart from each other. We—Pete and I—think that this’ll be really good for the both of them and just… just keep Gerard from talking to Mikey, if you can. And keep him safe. Please.”

“What you mean ‘safe’? Safe from what?”

Josh winces, “Safe from himself.”

Frank looks at Josh sharply, “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“He’s fucking suicidal, okay, Frank?” Josh says, exasperated. “Just distract him, keep him happy and talking, Gerard really likes to talk.”

Frank’s eyes go wide, he’d known Gerard had obviously gone through some shit, but suicidal? Frank shuddered as he imagined Gerard being gone. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now when Frank was finally starting to feel happy. 

“Okay,” Frank looks out the tinted truck windows at Gerard’s hunched form, tapping out something on his phone. “I’m pretty sure he’s talking to Mikey right now. How am I supposed to keep him from talking to his brother?” 

Josh scrunches a hand through his messy hair, sighing. “Maybe you could try something with your soulbond?” 

“Okay, I’ll try.” Frank says, determined. He looks to the door, eager to leave Josh’s truck that smelt like cannabis and old paper and the conversation behind. Ready to get back to Gerard.

He pops the door open and slides out, dark shoes hitting the muddy ground. Gerard has put his phone away, and gives Frank a half-smile, shifting closer to him. “What did he want?” 

Frank shakes his head and finds Gerard’s hand. “I’ll tell you later.” 

-

“Want something to drink?” Frank isn’t quite sure what to do with Gerard now that they are all alone. He figures that they’ll have to make up a story for his mother when she gets home, but he also wants to be a good host. 

“No,” Gerard shakes his head a little. “I’m all right, thanks.” He pulls at some of the rips on Frank’s oversized jeans and idles around the entryway of the house. 

Frank tugs him over to the living room with a little fond smile, and settles down on the couch. As he settles against Gerard’s side, they both sigh happily. It was crazy how complete Gerard made him feel, as cheesy and chick-flicky as that sounded. 

“So,” Frank starts.

“So?”

“My mother. She’ll be home soon, within the hour. We need a story for why you’re here. Or rather, why I’m here.” Frank frowns. “Will this ever be less confusing?”

“I dunno,” Gerard shrugs. “What do you want to tell her?”

“Probably should just tell her that I’m a friend from school, though she might be skeptical because I never have people over.” He frowns.

Gerard tightens the arm around his waist. “I’m sorry, Frankie. I didn’t really have friends in school either. Mikey and I mostly, until he started going out with Pete. After that, I hung around with Tyler and Josh sometimes.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait!” Frank exclaims.

“What? What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, wide eyed.

“Mikey and Pete are dating?”

“No, not anymore. They were though, only broke up about a year ago.”

Frank knows that he probably shouldn’t be encouraging Gerard to talk about Mikey, but he’s desperately curious and can’t help himself. “What happened? Do you know?”

“Not really. Mikey yelled at me whenever I tried to bring it up.” Gerard’s eyes went downcast and he fell silent. 

“That’s okay, my mom will buy it, I think. Maybe we could tell her I got into a fight and you helped me out.” Frank tries to change the subject, gesturing to his own face. “Speaking of which, how’s it feel? Any better?”

Gerard pats at Frank’s nose and winces a bit. “Not great, but I’ll live. How often do you get…”

“Sexually assaulted?”

Gerard flinches but nods minutely, hiding his face in Frank’s shoulder. 

Frank sighs, “It’s not every day, thank god. There’s this group of assholes that like to beat me up when they don’t have football practice after school and one of them corners me after all that and whips his dick out in my face.” 

“I’m sorry.” Gerard tells his shoulder and Frank pets the long part of his hair the way his mom does sometimes when he’s sad. Frank kisses the top of Gerard’s head. 

The front door squeaks open and the two boys on the couch spring apart, shuddering as they lose contact. 

“Hey Frank! How was school?”

Frank nudges Gerard, eyes wide. 

“Uh, it was good! Mom.” Gerard looks back at him and blinks very fast. “I actually got into a bit of a fight though--”

“Again? Frank Anthony,” she sighs and walks into the room, starting momentarily as she notices Gerard. “And who’s this?” 

Gerard looks over at Frank and he nods his head once, hoping it came across as encouraging. 

“This is Gerard, he helped break up the fight. We got to talking after I’d thanked him and I invited him to spend the night. That’s okay, right?”

“Well, I’d have preferred it if you would’ve called beforehand, but I suppose it’s okay. Is your mother okay with this Gerard, dear?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s good with it.” Frank smiles at his mother.

“Alright!” Frank’s mother smiles and reaches out to touch Gerard’s face. “You’d better get some ice on that, baby. Gerard, are you okay with veggie lasagna?” 

“Sounds great, thanks!” 

As his mother leaves the room, Frank gets to his feet and pulls Gerard up behind him, hurrying down the hall. 

As they arrange themselves on Frank’s bed, Gerard gives Frank’s hand a squeeze. 

“What?” Frank asks him.

“Vegetarian, are you?” 

Frank grins, “Vegan actually, close enough.”

Gerard arches a brow, confused. “What’s the difference?” 

“Vegetarians don’t eat the animals themselves and vegans, like me, don’t eat animals or their products. Stuff like milk and eggs.” Frank explains. 

“Oh,” Gerard says then smiles. “This is good.”

“What is?” 

“Learning things about you. It makes me feel.. Good. Warm.” Gerard moves closer against Frank’s side and closes his eyes. 

Frank is overcome with a pleasant rush of fond feelings. “Tyler did say we should get to know each other.”

Gerard nods, still smiling large and wide. “He did say that! God, Frankie, being with you feels just so, I don’t know, just so fucking right.”

“I know what you mean. My life was honestly such shit, even up through today. But with you, I feel whole.”

“Soulmates,” Gerard whispers, grinning at Frank. 

“Soulmates,” Frank agrees. 


End file.
